


It Wasn't Me Who Ran

by BlueCookiesForRick



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (sort of), -ish? it's complicated, Action/Adventure, Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Rose Tyler, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Grey Morality, Character Death, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pete's World (Doctor Who), Telepathy, Tenth Doctor Angst, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Agency, Whump, but really it's just a dramatic glorified polycule, i'd tag this as love triangle, isn't she always, yeet the author out of her comfort zone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCookiesForRick/pseuds/BlueCookiesForRick
Summary: “Rose, it’s him. I thought he was gone, he should be gone – but it’s him. He’s back.”There were few beings in the universe who managed to inject this much fear behind the Doctor’s voice. In fact, Rose could probably count them on her fingers. Whoever he was, made her entire body shiver in dread and anticipation.“Who?”His gaze shifted back towards her, full of terror, awe, and something else – something utterly unique, a deep endless chasm filled with screams and chaos and desires-The Doctor breathed out, a tiny whimper, and whispered in a half-choke, “The Master.”-While Rose and the Doctor settle into life on Pete’s world, an encounter with a dangerous, far too familiar friend makes them discover just how different this alternate universe really is.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Doctor Who and related characters do not belong to me.

The Master screamed. A raw, ugly, ungraceful thing that echoed in the far reaches of the universe. He clutched his head, shrieking as each mental presence severed itself from his brain, one by one. They didn’t even have the time to scream. But oh, the Master could well enough do that for the lot of them.

His hands unfurled from his temples and he reached his TARDIS (_the last of its kind, they’re dead, he did it, did it, did it_-), wincing at every step. He gripped the console like a lifeline. A simple flick of the lever, and he would be gone, whirling into the Vortex.

The Master didn’t, couldn’t, fool himself. He had a choice. He made a decision. The screaming silence torturing his brain was his own fault. He of all creatures should know how closely evil and good were intertwined, how useless it was to delude himself with empty promises of _I had no choice._

Another wave of pain. He staggered, fingers flying back to his temples. He should leave. He should leave now, carry on, move forward, move on. He should push the screams away, block them out forever. He didn’t care, it was just another damned burnt planet, only good for dust and ashes and memories. Underneath him.

But he waited. His mind was bracing for the strongest blow, the one he knew would break his barriers and scream, scream, scream in betrayal and suffering.

Theta had always been the only one to scream as loud as him.

He couldn’t hear it. He _couldn’t_. He scrambled up from the curled-up position he’d adopted, hands whizzing above the control in preparation for flight. He had to go, he had to stop, he couldn’t hear the Doctor die.

The engines roared, and he wanted to drown himself in the noise. Anything to quell the inevitable –

There it was. There _he_ was. The Doctor’s unmistakeable, omnipresent psychic pattern flickering in and out, clinging to any mind in a frenzied attempt to save itself. The Master hated how his stomach clenched. How his heart sank when the light finally sputtered out with a sigh that sang of unfulfilled dreams and betrayed faith. A hope that the Master could never extinguish, no matter how hard he had tried.

At least until now.

His own mind was still groping at the void, trying to mend the severed connection like a lizard without a tail. A stupid, Doctor-like desire for a peer, a fellow survivor. Someone to share the blinding pain that pounded inside his brain. Faintly, he heard the guttural shrieks of the Daleks as Skaro disintegrated, their bodies turning to dust under the shuddering ripples of the Moment.

No good, no evil. There was just need, and balance. And himself, alone, towering above it all. As always. The Alpha and Omega.

_Run away, like Theta did so well._

As the TARDIS dematerialised, the Master listened to his only friend’s dying whispers, ragged breaths pacing the silence of Gallifrey’s fall.


	2. Chapter 2

In nine hundred years of Time travel, the Doctor had felt wonder many times. He had stood next to the Kinyepa Waterfall, gasping as the droplets sparkled under the setting sun before zooming up towards the violet stars in a gravity-defying ballet. He had crouched in front of the biggest chasm in the Universe, shivering as his voice rippled between the walls and died down in the darkness. He had flown amidst a flock of birds over the mountains of Thrai-me, breathing in clouds as his eyes travelled from peak to peak.

The Doctor had seen Beauty, and none of it compared to the sight of Rose Tyler in the morning.

She had left the bathroom door slightly ajar, so he had witnessed the occasional naked foot peaking in through the doorway, but that had in no way prepared him to her glorious entrance. She had wrapped a towel around her hair, which failed to conceal the lone strand curling cheekily beside her chin. Her skin gleamed in the morning light that seeped through the window, and the Doctor wanted nothing more than to glide his finger along her collarbone, breathing in the sweet perfume of her shampoo –

“Oh don’t start, you big flirt,” Rose interrupted his thoughts with a smirk.

“What?” His lips widened in a playful grin. “Haven’t said anything!”

She bent down, ruffling her hands through his unkempt hair. The Doctor closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, prying a chuckle from Rose.

“Don’t need telepathy to know what you’re thinking, Casanova.”

They stayed that way for a second, foreheads almost touching. The Doctor’s senses had considerably lessened when he became part-human, but he could still perceive her heartbeat, racing and grounding and so, so precious.

Eventually Rose stood up, moving over to the wardrobe to pick up her clothes.

“Speaking of,” she said, “how’s your head?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Same as always. I’m sure it’s nothing. Well, nothing serious – well, nothing I won’t get used to.”

He knew his smile wasn’t fooling her, but he was grateful when she simply nodded, letting the subject go. Ever since his other self had left with the TARDIS (_not his ship anymore_, he thought with a twist of his singular heart), a dull pounding had lodged itself between his temples. And no amount of soothing massages, however welcome, could chase it away. The Doctor assumed his brain was still adapting to the meta-crisis, reconnecting synapses and refilling holes which were previously occupied by his Time-senses.

He missed his Time-senses. Feeling the planet’s rotations, letting seconds flow from his fingers like sand through an hourglass. Without the constant push-and-pull, his body felt lethargic, heavy, and foreign. While his Time knowledge remained, the reality now felt much more… linear.

But every time he looked at Rose, every time she laughed and he felt that relieved rush of love through his veins, he reminded himself she was worth every minute of discomfort.

He stretched, popping his shoulders, before jumping out of bed and swiftly changing into his clothes. No matter how many times Rose teased him, he would always revert back to the blue suit, the silk folds draping neatly around his waist like a childhood blanket. Glancing at the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair, spiking up the front with expert technique.

“I’m going to try bonding with the TARDIS coral,” he said.

Rose stopped her rummaging and looked at him. “You sure you’re up to it?”

“She’s reached her bonding stage. She’ll need a telepathic presence to ground herself properly – ”

“Not what I asked,” she interrupted.

“ – Of course, a full Time Lord mind would be best, but it’s not like we have plenty of those at the moment. I reckon she’ll put up with me, what with my natural charms and irresistible smile.” He grinned.

“Doctor.”

He sighed, meeting her pointed stare and ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples.

To be perfectly fair, the TARDIS could still have waited a week or two to bond with its pilot. Said pilot, however, desperately missed the constant presence buzzing in his mind. After centuries of symbiosis, his ship’s absence felt like ants digging through his brain. His psychic senses were rusty, wearily probing around with the force of a toddler’s fingers.

And deep down, under the practical excuses he made, the Doctor knew he desperately needed a new connection to his Time Lord self. One heart, no Time senses, no regeneration – telepathy was all he had left. And by the Suns, he would not let it grow dormant.

Not again.

“I’ll be fine, Rose. It’s just a little mental recalibration. Won’t even take five minutes. Then she’ll grow on her own, and before we know it we’ll be soaring through the stars again!”

She raised an eyebrow. “And running for our lives on alien planets.”

“That too,” he beamed, head cocked to the side. “That too.”

* * *

Machinery buzzed around the white walls as Rose entered the Doctor’s lab. As her eyes wandered through the heap of eclectic scientific experiments, she breathed in the familiar scent. There had always been an aura around the Doctor’s belongings. Something indescribable – faint traces of rust, oil, and another, utterly alien smell that for all her experience, Rose still couldn’t quite place.

“Ever heard of cleaning up once in a while?” She peered over the corner, where the Doctor busied himself around a bundle of writhing wires. He looked up and beamed at her.

“It’s called creative chaos. Nice phrase, that, I like it – pretty much sums me up, don’t you think?”

He shuffled over to peer into an advanced microscope, where he whooped victoriously.

“Oh hello, there! My, you’re brilliant, you are!”

“You know, some people talk to their plants,” said Rose.

The Doctor’s nose scrunched up. “Where’s the fun in that? Plants won’t tell them anything. You lot can’t understand plant – well, not yet, anyway.”

Rose had slid closer to the table, examining the wires that were now slowly reaching towards her fingers. She knew better than to touch them, but she still playfully waved her hand. They shifted, following her fingertips in elegant coils. Next to them stood a crystal, pulsing with pinkish white light – the TARDIS core, she remembered, the very first piece the Doctor had shown her, stars in his eyes, when he had embarked in his wild project.

She got distracted by a soft exhale next to her, and glanced upwards to find a pair of mesmerised brown eyes. The Doctor was watching her with a subdued half-smile. His face was radiant, and his lashes caught the faint sunlight that waded through the windows above. Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, she coughed and fixed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So, how’s it coming about?”

“See for yourself.” He beckoned her to the microscope.

She peered into the hole, squinting. Underneath her gaze, glowing tendrils slithered and rustled between throbbing transparent globes. The sight was bathed in a golden light she immediately associated with the Doctor. The same energy he had regenerated with. Rose was no scientist, but she could appreciate the beauty of the spectacle – a constantly shifting assembly of interlocking parts, merging together in a flawless dance. A buzz echoed inside her skull and she blinked rapidly, trying to shake it out.

“You hear that?” came the Doctor’s voice. She nodded, tilting back towards him.

“Figured you would,” he said in a warm voice. “It’s the TARDIS’ mental call. The cells you’re watching in the microscope – they’re connecting their psychic patterns with each other, but also imprinting their identity into the universe itself. Informing it of their presence, collecting the data. But all of time and space, that’s a lot for one system to absorb. So the TARDIS is reaching out for an anchor, to steady herself in the continuum.” He exhaled, his eyes shining. “She’s saying her first words.”

_God_, he was beautiful in the soft lighting. She brushed her hand against him, grinning when he instantly laced his pianist fingers between hers.

“Well,” she murmured, “aren’t you gonna answer her then?”

His eyes twinkled as he squeezed her hand once more. He extended his arms towards the core, letting the wires coil around them like affectionate snakes. Rose held her breath. As soon as his fingers came into contact with the crystal, however, the Doctor gasped, his muscles jerking. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Doctor? You alright?”

“Fine, fine. Just – readjusting. It’s been a long time…” He kept his hands steady around the coral. Slowly, he began to relax and his breath evened out. The corners of his lips quirking up, he finally opened his eyes to meet Rose’s.

“It’s working. She’s accepting the bond.” He broke into a giant grin, pearly white teeth shining through. Rose replied with an even wider smile, feeling her heart flutter treacherously.

Still grinning like a madman, the Doctor closed his eyes again, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He went silent, breath occasionally hitching when the mental link got a little strained.

The whole ordeal was taking much longer than five minutes, Rose thought. But then again, the Doctor still had trouble processing time in a linear fashion. She had to cut him some slack.

It was strange, watching him communicate with the core. Physically, there wasn’t much to it: hands on a glowing crystal, metal coils wrapped around his arms, slight wrinkles just above his eyebrows. The steady whirr of machinery which she’d quickly learnt to tune out. Outside, the faint roar of afternoon traffic.

But Rose knew how important this was to him. In fact, she was sure her own heartbeat rivalled that of his previously-dual one. As much as she joked about their… intimate relationship, she had seen the care that seeped into the Doctor’s every pull of the TARDIS’ levers, every press of a button. She had sensed the ship’s passionate, almost aggressive protectiveness ever since she had set foot inside this wonderful, bigger-on-the-inside curiosity. The TARDIS was more than a ship – she was the Doctor’s confidante, his guide, his very first companion –

Suddenly the Doctor gasped, and he quickly broke contact with the crystal. The wires fell with a clang, still scrambling about like bodyless tentacles.

A lump formed inside Rose’s throat. At the Doctor’s cry of pain, she hastily moved towards him.

“…Doctor? What’s wrong?”

“I- something’s interfering… A third component… The TARDIS can’t stabilise – lost…_AGH_!”

He sank down to his knees, clutching his temple with his right hand. His left hand was curled on the counter above him in a knuckle-white grip. She placed her own trembling one on his cheek, rubbing circles she hoped would be enough to ground him out of his head.

“Something?” she prompted.

He gasped. His muscles were spasming, and Rose felt tears prickle in her eyes. She had no idea what to _do_, goddamnit, she was helpless while her Doctor writhed on the floor and cried-

“Not something,” he choked out. Eyes screwed shut and breath shallow. “Someone. But – it can’t be, that’s not possible, I-”

Her brain was in tunnel vision – the whole universe could go lose itself, there was only the Doctor, panting, and her own beating, beating, beating heart. She desperately tried to steady her breathing. For his sake. “Okay.” _Deep breaths, come on, Rose. _“Doctor, how can I help?”

“Something’s wrong. Someone. I – I can’t – no. That’s impossible. _No_.”

His eyelids shot up, and suddenly Rose was faced with two round, absolutely terrified brown eyes.

“Rose.”

She nodded, relieved. She had seen him retreat into his head more than once, and it could sometimes take hours to pry him back out. Rose didn’t think she could stand watching him writhe on the floor much longer.

“Rose, it’s him. I thought he was gone, he should be gone – but it’s him. He’s back.”

There were few beings in the universe who managed to inject this much fear behind the Doctor’s voice. In fact, Rose could probably count them on her fingers. Whoever _he_ was, made her entire body shiver in dread and anticipation.

“Who?”

His gaze shifted back towards her, full of terror, awe, and something else – something utterly unique, a deep endless chasm filled with screams and chaos and desires-

The Doctor breathed out, a tiny whimper, and whispered in a half-choke, “The Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it starts... Hope you enjoyed! Please don't forget to leave a review if you liked it!! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've been waiting for (hopefully)! All I can say is...Brace yourselves.  
It might be a while until I post again, so have a longer chapter <3 Enjoy!

In the back of his mind, a voice was telling the Doctor to slow down and wait for Rose. He didn’t doubt her capacity to keep up with him (especially now that he was part-human), but she deserved to know what in the Seven Systems was happening.

Unfortunately, the rest of his mind was too busy blaring alarms at a hundred and fifty decibels to pay attention to logic. Or maybe that was the mental tug he had not felt since the Valiant. He didn’t know, he couldn’t think, _he_ was here, _how was he here? _

His feet beat against the pavement, his arms flailing around to push away the busy London crowd. Buildings zoomed past him, his own reflection popping on and off the glass windows. His own panting breaths resonated in his skull, merging with his pounding heart which sounded suspiciously like a drumbeat. His linear perception was reeling – sometimes blurring the world into vague whizzing colours, sometimes hyper-focusing on every detail like the slow-motion scenes in the films Martha liked to watch. _Rassilon_, was human Time-awareness confusing.

He could still feel the aftershocks of the psychic attack from earlier. He had sprung to his feet immediately after his initial panic, grabbing his sonic and spilling out in the street in a frenzied chase towards his enemy, nemesis, friend, companion -

(There were no words in the English language for the feelings _he_ sparked inside the Doctor’s soul-)

He took a right, then a left, desperately following the mental compass which spun like a top and set fire to any rational thought. Knocked over signs, skidded at every bend, ignored cries of outrage coming from human passers-by. The wind whipped angrily through his hair. And at each footfall, the pit of dread _(hope) _in his bones got stronger, deeper, more devouring and consuming – and there was the last corner, he could sense it, only the Master could radiate such a powerful energy –

He skidded to a stop just in front of an old electric box.

It was…underwhelming, considering the Master’s usual theatrics. Dull, functional, a little dusty. Neat, black letters encased in a yellow frame: **DANGER OF DEATH. DO NOT ENTER.** But he figured that was how the chameleon circuit was programmed to work. His friend had always been the better flyer.

Panting, he gripped his knees to steady himself. Damn this monovascular system. Dimly, he noted a new admiration for his companions’ stamina.

Speaking of, he heard the echo of footsteps rebounding across the narrow alley. A second later, he was faced with flushed cheeks and a mane of tangled, golden hair. Rose took much less time than him to control her breathing.

“You alright?” he asked.

She nodded. “You scared me over there, Doctor. What’s happening?”

“I…” He moved over to the disguised TARDIS. Brushed his fingers over the edges, sighing softly as the fake dust disintegrated on his fingers. It had been centuries since he had seen the chameleon in action. A living, functioning Type 90 TARDIS.

He gasped as the pain in his temples flared. Suddenly gripped by a new wave of panic, he turned back towards Rose.

“Rose, you shouldn’t be here. You need to go back and-”

“Move out of the way, humans.”

_Oh stars above. _He couldn’t do this.

Bathed in light, on the other side of the alley, the Master was striding towards them. Same face, same swaggering finesse to his step. Not quite so similar glint in his eyes, but still enough to send a chill down his spine. By instinct, the Doctor shuffled in front of Rose, glaring at the Time Lord facing him. He felt Rose’s posture set, ready to fight, run, or bluff her way through anything.

The Master carried on walking, each step beating to the Doctor’s racing heart.

“Look,” he continued with a half-smirk, “I’ve had a long, horribly boring day and I’m just itching for some entertainment, so if you don’t move your grubby little hands away from my TARDIS, it’ll be a pleasure for me to just –”

“Master.” _Don’t think of your last meeting, of teasing cruelty and insane laughter and abandonment and loss-_

“…Oh.” The Master’s eyebrows furrowed, twist of the lips turning into something more playful. “Now that’s interesting. You must be from the Time Agency. I knew those idiots have been following me for a while.”

He waved a noncommittal hand through the air. The Doctor fought to remain stoic, though he could feel his hand trembling underneath Rose’s tight grip.

“How are you –” he started, “how are you even _alive_?”

_(Hands soaked in his best friend’s blood, shivering from exhaustion as he watched the entire world burn within a pair of closing eyelids. His own pleas for mercy echoing around the Valiant, Gallifreyan words flowing like a river through his lips. The same playful smirk haunting him, torturing him, caressing him-)_

The Master lifted a blonde eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”

Another sharp breath. How in Gallifrey could humans _do_ it? His mind was whirring, connecting possibilities, and had the circumstances been different he would have basked in the opportunity to deduce again, to solve mysteries and save the day.

“There must have been some way you survived – never mind that, how did you follow me all the way through…”

It hit him like a Gorshaz stampede. Quickly, violently, and painfully. His eyes were wide as realization flooded his still aching brain. “_Oh_. Oh Rassilon, you’re from _this_ world.”

The Master did not move, but the Doctor could still see the slight raise of his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw, the minuscule crease on his forehead – “Rassilon?” He muttered, then after a beat, “What did you say your names were?”

Wait. Double take. “You mean you don’t know?”

He rolled his eyes, and it looked so much like his Academy self that the Doctor swallowed back a lump in his throat. “So you’re one of the bright ones, are you now?”

“Master, it’s me. I’m the Doctor.”

Wrong thing to say. The Doctor had barely registered the flash in the Master’s eyes, his face contorting in fury, before he was projected against the wall. _Ow, my ribs_. The rough cement grated against his hands as the Time Lord before him pinned him until he was up on his toes. The Doctor almost shivered under the Master’s breaths, and the fierce grip on his collar felt like tendrils of fire.

“Alright,” the Master started, low and hissing. “Whatever little game you think you’re playing, you don’t even _think_ of mentioning that name with that filthy mouth of yours.”

What a great time to realise his respiratory bypass was gone too. The Doctor tried to speak, eyes flicking back to Rose for a moment. Her eyes were blown wide, but he could see her fists clenching, about to fly into the Master’s face. He shook his head at her – he couldn’t let her get his attention. He kicked uselessly.

“Now,” the Master’s face was like a sun – it hurt to directly stare at him. He coughed. “You’re going to tell me exactly who you are or I _will_ make sure you die a slow, extremely painful death.”

And his smirk was like a supernova – dangerous, unstable, deep and destructively mesmerising.

“Oi, you get off of him!”

So much for keeping the attention on him. The Master turned towards Rose, and she took a step forward, jaw set. He tilted his head like a curious predator and began chuckling.

“Oh, that’s adorable. And what will you do, little human?”

He let go of the Doctor, who promptly groaned and scrambled to his feet.

“Rose, stay away from him.” Her eyes were sliding back and forth between them, confusion and anger clouding her brow.

“Who is he, Doctor?”

The Master rolled his eyes. “I really don’t have time for this.”

The slight decrease in tension (and by effect, the lack of direct threat to his throat) allowed his brain to race back to his previous line of thought. There was a nagging doubt at the back of his mind, and he was left wondering what he was missing. He needed to understand – knowledge was one of his only defences against the Master.

“But if you’re here, on alternate Earth, in the present,” he asked him, “then how did you…” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The Master reverted his attention to him. Good. He could work with that. “How did you escape Utopia? The fob-watch? What about the Time War, how-”

“Alright, that’s it.” The Master’s voice had gone even lower. This wasn’t the crazed, manic pitch the Doctor had been used to. This was a cold fury he had not seen in a long, long time.

There was a muffled thump, and the Doctor found himself doubling over, hands flying to his throbbing midsection. He tried to wrench himself free, but he couldn’t avoid the sharp kicks that followed – he collapsed on the ground, wincing, as the Master lost all self-control. The world exploded in pain as another blow flew to his ribs. The cold, dirty floor underneath. The dusky half-light as a zeppelin glided over their heads. Above him, a string of insults, demanding to know how a human could know about the Time War… _oh Rassilon_, the Master still thought he was human.

The beating suddenly stopped, replaced by a clang, a beat, then frenzied shuffling. Afraid to lose the reprieve, it took a while to will his eyes to open, and he squinted, wincing as the blood came rushing back to his head. The Master’s feet, no longer turned towards him, were striding towards Rose at an alarming pace. She was holding a rusty bar (_where on Earth had she found that?_), and he knew the expression on her face had terrified more than one alien. Through his still blurry vision, she looked positively intimidating.

“I said,” she repeated, eyes brewing with deadly storms, “get off of him right now.”

If the situation had been different, the Doctor would have let the swell of pride envelop him, giving his companion a thousand-watt smile.

As it turned out, the feeling withered under the terror that overtook him when the Master pointed the device _(“Laser screwdriver- who’d have sonic?”) _ towards her.

“You do not get to give me orders, human.”

_Rose, run! _He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a feeble groan. His ribs throbbed at every move. _Stars_, he had dealt with much worse injuries. Why was he so weak now?

He just needed to talk to the Master. He needed to tell him, make him believe, make him understand. He could help him.

So the Doctor heaved himself on his knees. Took a gulping breath, coughed once. Then pronounced the one word he knew would make the Master stop.

“Koschei.”

The Master froze, and even his chest fell silent as he turned his head back towards the Doctor. His eyes were no longer burning, heavy clouds replacing the raging tempest – the calm between two storms. His grip on the laser slackened.

“What did you say?”

“Koschei, please.” His voice was still weak, but his gaze was locked onto his friend. Pleading, desperate. “Listen to me. I can prove it.”

Still on his knees, he lifted his hands up towards him like an offering. The Master breathed, eyes widening in recognition of the gesture. Slowly, painfully, he bent down in a crouch. His fingers twitched, and the Doctor held his breath. It had been an eternity since he had last shared his mind – properly, that is – with another Time Lord. Much less the Master. He shivered.

“Please, listen.” He whispered.

And there they were. Two gleaming, brown eyes that were so much like his own. Swirling pools of galaxies, housing life and death and destruction, concealed behind walls the size of volcanoes. Intense flickers of light that screamed _power, power, power _until throats were raw and worlds were burning. How many times had the Doctor dreamt of (_dreaded_) this moment?

Fingers brushed against his temples. The Doctor gasped, and their foreheads collided.

_Burning tornadoes storms death corpses explosions duty choice Time planets – too soon too late – abandoned loss burning solitude freezing – couldn’t wouldn’t timelines erased too late YOU WEREN’T THERE I HATE YOU LOVE –_

_His eyelids snapped shut – too much, it was too much – he pushed back – power pain silence – he needed to send a grounding point – Gallifrey, the Tree, next to the Astrophysics wing, where they played as students, climbing between the hollow branches and tossing fistfuls of silver leaves at each other – laughing joy pain loss it’s gone – IT’S ME –_

_The mind latched on. Like a rope tied onto a rock, before you leap into the chasm. And pulled._

_It hurt – it hurts stop it pain – ancient memories spilling out. Not the recent – why take the front lines when Troy’s doors were wide open? Hours spent in the Academy basement, cleaning up datapads as punishment for their escapades. Deep breaths in the dark – listening to heartbeats as the nightmares overtook his mind. Alien planets visited for the first time, wide eyes full of wonder and curiosity. Shattered dreams, flimsy apologies, hurled insults and tasteless tears –_

And then everything was wrenched away, leaving him panting and reeling. Blinking out the stars in his vision. The Master had lurched away, eyes shining.

“Oh,” he breathed.

_‘Oh’_ was one way to put it. The Doctor’s head was pounding, and his lungs burned as he heaved another gasp. The ordeal had drained much more energy than expected.

“But…_how_?” The Master was gripping his temples, still staring at the Doctor as if he’d swallowed a hamster. The latter tried to answer, but found his throat clogged up once again. He nodded, gaze unfocused.

“Doctor.” _Rose. Rassilon, Rose. _His head swivelled back to her in alarm. _Please, let her be –_

She looked unharmed, save for a few scratches from her earlier fight with the Master. Her eyes were still darting back and forth between the two men – deducing, comprehending. He knew how quick her mind was for this sort of thing.

“So he’s…” She glanced warily back at the Master. “That’s another Time Lord, right?”

The Doctor nodded. Again. The other Time Lord in question was being much too quiet, shooting incredulous looks towards both of them. Never before had the Doctor seen his friend so speechless; it was unnerving to say the least.

“Okay,” breathed Rose. She moved closer to the Doctor, placing an arm on his shoulder. “Okay. Is that good or bad?”

A strangled sound came from his throat. That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? He cleared his throat.

“I’m not –”

“But how in the Seven Systems,” interjected the Master, the spark in his eyes steadily returning, “did you ever manage – you shouldn’t be – you were dead!”

“Koschei, listen-”

He whirled on his feet. “_Don’t_ call me that!”

His chest rose and fell erratically, staring him down. For the first time, the Doctor stopped to examine him properly. There were clear-cut bags under his eyes, and his beard looked much more haggard than before. He was dressed in a scathing yet crumpled red suit, and his hair was longer, more unkempt. His hands were still trembling, curled into fists by his sides.

It was the Master alright, but not _his_ Master.

The phrase treacherously slipped out of the Doctor’s mouth.

“What happened to you, Master?”

The Master stared for a few seconds. Then burst out laughing – a hysterical thing that bordered on a scream.

“What happened to _\- ?” _He shook his head._ “Oh, _that’s just hilarious. What happened to _me_? You have the guts to ask _me_ what happened?”

He was advancing towards the Doctor again. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the nagging sensation that he was missing something blaring at a newfound rate around his skull.

Rose spoke again, right next to him. “Wait. If he’s in this world, and _he_ escaped the Time War, then… Doctor, where does that put _you_?”

The apprehension in her eyes reflected his own.

“I-”

“I’ll tell you.”

The Master leaned in, staring right into the Doctor’s wide, unblinking eyes.

“Blasted into smithereens. Scattered into ashes around the cosmos. Exploded in the Moment along with every Time Lord in existence.”

And it seemed, for once, that the Doctor’s heart had stopped beating.

“You should be dead, Doctor.” The Master murmured, and his voice was both leaking with fury and tinged with bitter sorrow. “After all, I killed you myself.”

He let out a quick, ironic breath.

“And killing’s what I do best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hope you enjoyed! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment, I cherish them with my life. Love ya!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% happy with this, but hey, it's an extra long chapter!! Yay?

The words still echoed in Rose’s head like the TARDIS cloister bells, the Doctor’s fierce grip still burned her hand, and the intense gleam of his gaze was imprinted inside her eyelids. You could hear a penny drop in the silence that followed the Master’s revelation. Gradually, she picked up other sounds – the Doctor’s panting breaths, the mechanical whirrs from the overhanging zeppelin, the wail of a nearby police siren.

The Master was a Time Lord.

The Master had survived the war that plagued the Doctor’s nightmares to this day.

The Master had killed the Doctor.

To say Rose was confused was a huge understatement. Emotions churned inside her like a melting pot, concern and anger and bewilderment collapsing into one knee-jerk reaction. An urging protectiveness suddenly gripped her body, and instinct took over.

Gently pulling the Doctor behind her (whose face had gone so white Rose worried he might be sick), she placed herself between him and the Master. Bracing herself, she met the Time Lord’s powerful stare.

“What do you want?” she asked.

There was a beat. The Master focused on her, wavered for a few seconds, before breaking into a grin as false and disturbing as his earlier laughter.

“Is that what you did, then?” he asked, and his voice was quieter than what Rose had expected. “Just ran off and got yourself a new pet like nothing happened?”

“This pet has jumped fifty dimensions and saved the universe more times than you can think.” Her insecurities had vanished in front of the obvious danger, replaced by adrenaline-fuelled defiance.

“Rose…” came the Doctor’s voice, and if his profound distress hadn’t been enough to send her reeling, his disturbing lack of speech definitely did. _I’m the Doctor, and if there’s one thing I can do it’s talk._

She looked sharply back to the Doctor. “He killed you! I’m not gonna let him do it again!”

“Hold on, sweetie,” interrupted the Master. “Jumped fifty dimensions? What are you, a rogue Time Agent?”

“Better.” Rose smirked. “I’m the Bad Wolf.”

Something flickered inside his eyes. Interest, curiosity, understanding.

“So _you’re _the anomaly.”

A beat. “S’cuse me?”

He shook his head, chuckled, and pulled up a small device, not unlike the convenient machinery the Doctor prided himself in making. He waved it before her, scanning her in one swift motion. “You’re the one who’s been leaving Void particles all over the place.”

“You’ve been tracing those?” asked the Doctor – which prompted the Master to look back sharply towards him.

“Have you been playing with dimensions, Doctor?” There was an edge to his voice, something vicious that Rose could not quite place. His eyelids narrowed, a dark shadow clouding his expression. “That’s where you went after it all, wasn’t it? Off to another universe.”

“Well, not exactly –” interrupted the Doctor.

“You _ran,_” he spat finally. “All this talk of loyalty and honour, and morality – and you just ran away like a scared little rat.”

The Master was properly sneering by then, gritted teeth visible between his tense, curled lips. Rose felt rather than saw the Doctor tense beside her. Glancing back to him, she noticed with a start the mournful twist of his face, the flicker of confusion and hurt in the chocolate pools she knew so well.

“Master, if you could just listen –”

“I’ve been listening _for centuries!”_ yelled the Master suddenly, and Rose braced herself for another attack. The zeppelin had flown over, and the newly-freed sunlight now created deep, strange shadows on his face. “Nothing’s here, Doctor. Not one single whisper.”

His voice suddenly went quiet, as if he was still desperately searching for a sound beyond his reach. His fingers absently brushed his right temple.

“No one is here. Not even you.”

And Rose felt that twist in her heart again – the same sizzling sensation she had felt while watching a Dalek suffer torture half a mile under the surface of the earth. Or seeing a terrifying disfigured child call out to his Mummy on a foggy London night. She realised she had seen the exact same pair of scarred, desperate irises before – and their owner stood right behind her.

The Doctor inhaled sharply. With infinite caution, he inched closer to the Master’s trembling form.

“_You_ ended the Time War,” he murmured. Aside from a quick flick of his gaze, the Master didn’t answer. “In this universe, you’re the one who did it.”

Slowly, the Doctor raised his hand towards the Master’s shoulder.

“You’re like me.”

The Master’s head snapped up. He caught the Doctor’s wrist in what had to be an extremely painful grip.

“Why couldn’t I sense you?” His tone was low – the question beat the air like a drum. His eyebrows were knitted close, a tight line forming on his forehead. His gaze travelled up and down the Doctor’s form. “What did you do?”

“I can explain that – everything.” This time, Rose fully recognised the Doctor’s voice. He was placating, using cool, soothing words to appease terrified crowds. And in the corner of her eye, she caught the Master’s hands trembling, as if centuries of boiling anger and repressed sorrow were clawing their way out, rushing to the closest extremities.

The Master opened his mouth.

There was a deafening gunshot, and the Doctor cried out in pain.

Rose barely had the time to think _Not again! – _before the alley exploded into chaos. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, and she brought her arms up, desperately scanning for a cover. The Master pulled out his weapon and fired towards the roofs. She rushed to the Doctor, who was gripping his already bleeding shoulder. His eyes were already darting around, falling back into habit, assessing the situation like it was routine exercise.

“I’m fine,” he said, waving his hand.

“Yeah, not convinced, sorry.” The wound appeared clean – the bullet had exited on the other side. She placed his arm over her shoulder and made for the small alcove between two bins.

“Freeze!”

The shout was definitely louder than it should have been. Rose looked up. Their attackers were perched on the nearby roofs – she could make out at least six shooters. The bullets had stopped, she noted. In a second, the sky shimmered, revealing a huge, sleek spaceship that towered above like a storm cloud. Rose was reminded of Captain Jack’s ship back in the Blitz, and of the Master’s earlier words_. I knew those idiots have been following me for a while…_

The voice resounded again, booming and warped.

“The Time Lord known as the Master is under arrest for violation of Articles 45, 57, 63, 78 and 90 of the Shadow Proclamation. Him and his associates are requested to drop their weapons and surrender, under penalty of immediate incapacitation.”

Apparently, the Master had other ideas. He pointed his device towards the electric box, which glowed softly and opened its door with a slight creak. The air rippled as a glowing red forcefield materialised around them. The bullets clinked, momentum brutally cancelled, and bounced on the pavement.

“I’d suggest you try shooting us again,” he said coolly. “But then your engines would collapse trying to hold the excess energy. I’m not sure your superiors would appreciate smearing burnt spaceship parts all over 21st century London.”

The Doctor swayed in Rose’s arms, eyelids fluttering. She cursed, gripping him tightly. It was jarring to see him this frail. Apparently being half-human meant he had more trouble hiding his injuries – Rose wondered if that was much of a progress.

“We need to get him to safety!” she called. The Master flicked his eyes towards the Doctor and frowned. He hesitated for a second before snapping his fingers. Without a single creak, his TARDIS door swivelled open. Rose could perceive a faint crimson glow coming from the inside – a menacing yet deeply alluring shade that pulsed like a heart.

Amidst the clamouring orders to stand down, the Master calmly bent over next to Rose, picked up the Doctor’s other arm, and helped her prop him upwards.

“Get him inside,” he grunted.

“I’m _fine_, I swear,” snapped the Doctor, then winced and promptly stumbled into Rose. The unlikely trio hobbled over towards the electric box, forcefield still rippling over them like a soap bubble. When they reached the threshold, the Master ran over to the controls, flipped a lever, and the pulsing red lights intensified. The sound of whirring engines filled the room.

“We could have talked to them,” protested the Doctor. The Master rolled his eyes.

“My TARDIS, my rules. I am not _talking_ to these trigger-happy low-life sheep.”

The Doctor’s eyes went wide, even as his pupils furiously blinked in and out of focus. “So you’re just…running away?”

The Master didn’t respond.

“This is a final warning,” cried the disembodied voice. “Surrender now or-”

The TARDIS door slammed shut, effectively silencing it like a slap to the face.

* * *

The flight was much smoother than what she had been used to. The ship barely moved, save for the small tremors of spinning turbines. She hadn’t had the chance to look around as they had carried the Doctor into the medical bay, hooking him up to the alien life support as he drifted into unconsciousness. Now, the engines rumbled around her ears, a soft background noise that was both familiar and incredibly disturbing. The console was still littered with buttons and levers, and the rotor still slid up and down with endless diligence – but while the energy emitted by the Doctor’s ship resembled that of an old friend you came to visit, this version reminded her of an aloof guard dog. It reared its head inside her mind, prodding at her, demanded her secrets. She shivered, shaking her head. The room was bathed in a red half-light, not unlike the old-fashioned photograph developers Rose had once seen on TV. She wondered if this meant danger (as crimson light usually did) – but after five minutes spent with the Master barely paying any attention, she figured they were safe.

Well, as safe as they could be.

She eyed the Time Lord, whose head had not once looked up from the controls since the Doctor had been transported to the medical bay. He barely seemed to breathe at all, staring at the console as if he could move it with his mind. There was a carefully neutral expression on his face, so unlike the passionate rage that had twisted his features when he talked to the Doctor.

He was a puzzle, she thought. The more she tried to squint and piece his image together, the more elusive he became. She needed clear answers if she were to move forward – and since she apparently wasn’t going to get them from the Doctor anytime soon, she would have to get to the source.

“Alright,” she placed a hand on the console, right in his line of sight. “We’re having this talk now.”

While she didn’t particularly enjoy staying alone with the man who had apparently killed this universe’s version of the Doctor, she figured the other Time Lord’s absence would finally let her speak to him for real.

He flicked his eyes towards her, unimpressed, but remained silent.

“Who are you? Really?”

He looked back down, and for a second Rose thought he would ignore her. Then he muttered two words in a voice so low Rose had to strain to hear him.

“An enemy.”

So it seemed, judging by the glare that she had received since she got here. But Rose knew there was more to it. The Doctor’s pained stare, the Master’s own agonised whisper, the mix of tension and wary hopefulness that seeped into their speech – she had seen the Doctor talk to his enemies more times than she could count, and this was so, so different.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Sure you are. That’s why you brought us to safety inside your TARDIS.” She jutted her head towards the medical wing. “That’s why you let the Doctor use your healing pod.”

The Master stayed silent for a while. He flicked a few switches, briefly looking up towards the rotor. “I need him alive. You two have information.”

“So we’re your prisoners.”

The Master said nothing, letting another silence envelop the control room. Rose bit her lip. She decided to cut to the chase. Consequences be damned, she needed to know who he was, and she figured it would take more than a little probing for him to talk. If she wanted answers, she would need to poke the lion in the eye.

“Why did you do it?”

He paused his prodding of the console. His eyes flicked back towards her, and Rose felt the intensity of his stare prickle at the back of her neck. He was calculating, that much was obvious – but what exactly, she wasn’t so sure.

“Do what?”

She breathed. Now or never. “Press the button. Kill Gallifrey.”

The few times she or the Doctor had mentioned the subject of his home, the Doctor either cast a quick joke, evade the topic or adopt a forlorn, drifting expression that made her backtrack more than once. But at the moment, you’d have to excuse her if she couldn’t really care less about the subtleties of the Master’s emotional state.

The Master’s face was inscrutable. Despite the gravity of the conversation, she saw no trace of the fury she had witnessed outside the TARDIS; perhaps he had had time to process his earlier shock – or perhaps he only reserved emotion for the Doctor.

He stared at her, long and hard.

“I was the only one who could.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly a reason.”

At this the Master scoffed and looked back down.

“What happened to the Doctor?” His voice gained a harder, questioning tone. “He’s all… wrong. What have you people done to him?”

Rose hesitated. This was a whole different matter, and she didn’t feel comfortable sharing the Doctor’s new vulnerability to a Time Lord she barely knew, let alone trusted. She narrowed her eyes.

“_We_ didn’t do anything to him. Which is more than I can say for you, apparently.”

The Master immediately tensed.

“I could kill you right now, you snivelling ape,” he growled, stepping towards her.

“Then why haven’t you?” she retorted, refusing to back down.

They stood there, surrounded by the menacing rumbles of the TARDIS, staring in each other’s eyes. Rose’s heart thundered in her chest, and her fists were curled, ready to defend herself. The Master’s eyes glinted like a snake ready to strike. Tension bubbled between them, and now that the Doctor wasn’t there to mediate, it was impossible to predict how it would erupt, or what would be left in the rubble.

But then his eyes shifted, focusing on a space behind her. He shoved her aside, striding towards the dim hallways and barely sparing a glance backwards as he called out to her.

“Controls are isomorphic, so don’t even think about touching anything. The TARDIS _will_ know.”

With that he was gone, and Rose was left standing in the pulsing red light with more questions than before, frustration clawing at her throat while the rotor pushed its way through the Vortex.

* * *

_“C’mon, Theta, how are you so slow?”_

_Laughter rang around his ears, cascading out of him into the dimly-lit hallways. He tugged at his friend’s arm in a desperate attempt to make him slow down; but his efforts were rewarded by an even stronger pull which sent him stumbling over his robes. There were no Professors, no Wardens, no students – not one distraction from Koschei’s confident stance and slightly flushed complexion. It was only them against the dark corners of the Academy – like it was always meant to be._

_“You drag me out of bed in the middle of the night with a grin that could split your jaw, and now you’re making us run like our regeneration depends on it!” He stage-whispered between two panting breaths. “The least you can do is tell me where we’re going.”_

_Koschei just flipped his head back towards him, and smirked. His icy blue eyes sparkled like diamonds._

_“Trust me,” he said. “You don’t want to miss this.”_

_He had to admit, his friend’s sudden and most unusual excitement sent his thoughts spinning into countless hypotheses. What could possibly be so important as to warrant an exception on Koschei’s airtight schedule?_

_They rounded a corner, and Theta had to squint as the hallway was suddenly filled with brilliant orange light. He barely had the time to notice Koschei’s abrupt stop before he barrelled into him, sending both children crashing to the floor in a giggling heap. Struggling to catch his breath, Theta scrambled to his knees._

_“What in the Seven Systems was that all a-”_

_His voice died in his throat. His eyebrows went flying up, and his jaw slackened as he took in the spectacle before him._

_Koschei had led him into the Panorama Room, where the Astronomy sessions usually took place. The entire room was made of pure Gallifreyan glass, extending into the sandy landscape like a pier into the deep red sea. The natural light rippled around the walls, bathing the world in a warm titian glow._

_Outside, the night sky was ablaze with fireworks, multicoloured lights refracting in infinite sparks of red and gold. Nebulae twisted around them, swirling faster and faster in a frenzied symphony. A ballet made of space and stardust, performed exclusively for two students on a midnight adventure._

_ “The Circular Triple-Eclipse,” murmured Koschei in a subdued voice. Beams of starlight danced on his forehead, straying to his raven hair like planets sucked into a black hole. “Only happens once every three thousand years.”_

_Theta could practically hear the galaxies calling him – beckoning closer, playfully whispering into his ear. _Come have fun_, said the stars – and really, who was he to deny them?_

_“It’s beautiful,” he whispered._

_“It’s a scientific phenomenon,” replied Koschei, eyes still twinkling._

_Theta ran up to the far-end wall, the last barrier between the Academy and the crimson wilderness of the universe. He pressed his hands against the glass, gaze never straying from the celestial display._

_He felt Koschei’s hand brushing his robes as his friend joined his side. Their minds playfully tickled each other, prying a smirk from Koschei’s pale lips. Theta took a deep breath, enjoying the night air._

_“One day I’ll be towering above it all,” said his companion. “My TARDIS will fly over Gallifrey along with the nebulae, and no one will make me do anything.” He looked over towards Theta, who observed him silently. “I’ll be free.”_

_Theta took his hand and squeezed it. “Well, you aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon. I’ll always be a thorn in your side.”_

_Koschei squeezed back and laughed, a ringing bell of joy. “Of course you will, you idiot. We'll always be together.”_

_They stood in silence, staring at the orange sky as it started to fade into a sapphire blue._

_“Besides, someone needs to pilot that TARDIS of ours, and it sure as Time won’t be you, considering your latest grade.”_

_“Hey, no fair!”_

And the Doctor woke up with Koschei’s laugh ringing in his ears and the feel of Gallifrey’s crisp nocturnal air still caressing his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose: *is alone with the Master for like 5 minutes*  
Rose:  
Rose: bitch
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and please lemme know what you think! It might be a while before the next update, so if you wanna hear from me feel free to chat me up on my tumblr. Love ya! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, guys. Uni life be like that :/ Hope this chapter is worth it!

“What do you mean, you lost him _again_?”

Kandra winced, sending a glance towards Pris. _Told you so._ The hologram flickered, briefly replacing the frowning face of the Commander with blue static.

“You had all the resources of the bloody Shadow Proclamation at your service, and you managed to _lose_ him?”

Her eyebrow twitched. “Yes. The Time Lord used our own weapons against us. From what we gathered he created a stationary permanent loop to destabilise our firing power. We couldn’t fire without compromising the ship’s integrity.”

“And you couldn’t even lock the TARDIS’ Time position?”

Kandra gritted her teeth, straightening her sleeve. “We tried, but it seems the weapons overloaded our general power. Tapped into the mainframe.”

“This does not look good for the Time Agency. We’re already the laughing stock of the universe.”

Gods, as if she could forget, given the frequency at which the Commander repeated it.

“You’d better find him fast. Before he does any more damage than he already has.”

“Sir, there’s something else.”

The Commander eyed her quizzically.

“The Master… He wasn’t alone. Two individuals joined him inside his ship.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Species?”

“One human… And a Time Lord.”

The silence beat the air like a hammer. Kandra shifted, sharing a look with Pris, who was excelling in the art of escaping awkward conversations with superiors.

“That’s impossible,” breathed the Commander. _Yeah, no shit._ She stayed silent. The engines rumbled, and an asteroid glided into view outside the bay windows.

“Well… Continue tracking the Artron energy. Proceed with caution, and notify us when the next strike is ready.”

“Yes, sir.” A salute later, the hologram dissipated, and Kandra walked over to Pris, who playfully raised their eyebrow.

“Wow. You’re so good at this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks. Next time you get to talk to the Commander.”

Pris shrugged, fishing an energy bar from their pocket. How they managed to get their hands on so many food rations remained an eternal mystery. “Wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

They winked, and turned their back on her, waving a hand through the air in a mock-salute.

“You know you love me, Lieutenant.”

* * *

His eyelids fluttered open, then immediately squeezed shut. The light fixtures on the wall pulsed with red and pierced his skin, filling his vision with a dark Bordeaux colour. Flashes of his dream echoed comfortably around his skull, quickly tinged with the bitter filters of regret and nostalgia. He could hear his heartbeat.

He could also hear shuffling. On his left.

His mouth tasted like cardboard. His shoulder was throbbing, shooting tendrils of muffled pain down his arm. Groaning softly, he moved his head and opened his eyes again. Bedsheets, white but red-tinted from the light. Knees. In a red suit. Black shoes. Hands clasped together. A pair of brown eyes intently fixed on his.

_Koschei…_

They stared at each other for a moment, gazes filled with unvoiced, incomprehensible confessions. The Master – his Master – was usually so restless, so manic in his perpetual movements. This version’s agitation was much subtler; it was hidden beneath the ripples of his knee as he bounced it up and down. The tension in his jaw and his gritted teeth. Anger or confusion or wistfulness all tied into one conflicted twist of his eyebrows.

“I heard that, you know,” came the Master’s voice, a deep rumble that harmonised with the distant engines. The Doctor blinked. “I forgot how loud your dreams could be.”

He swerved his head away, staring back up towards the ceiling. “Yeah.”

Another silence. Against his will, his eyes veered back towards the Master.

“Where’s Rose?” he asked.

“Your blonde human?”

The Master tilted his head, as if to listen to his TARDIS. Which wasn’t exactly how it worked, but the Doctor was hardly one to lecture others about proper TARDIS/Time Lord communication etiquette. “Exploring, it seems. Humans never stay still, do they?”

“I need to go to her.” He jolted up, and immediately sucked through his teeth. Spikes of pain shot through him like echoing ripples of a bullet.

“Don’t move. For some reason, the TARDIS doesn’t recognise your metabolism. You won’t be fixed as quickly.”

The Doctor looked down, his heart grieving for his lost metabolism.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Figures.”

The Master raised an eyebrow. “Care to explain then?”

The Doctor wondered when the other Time Lord would start trying to kill him again. Perhaps that would have been easier to deal with than… all this mess. That hard, calculating stare. The hopeful tone of his own voice as they had their first peaceful conversation in eons. He was afraid that one wrong word would send this fragile balance toppling back into a familiar chasm of bitterness and spite.

“Not really?”

Something flashed in the Master’s eyes, and the Doctor fought hard not to flinch. He wished Rose was there. Her unyielding determination, although sufficient to send waves of worry through his body, helped him stay focused on the threat, rather than consider the what-ifs.

“I’m not going to beg for answers,” spat the Master as he stood up. “Keep your secrets if they make you feel _safer_.”

Slowly, the Doctor tried to sit up again, breathing through his nose. This brooding, concealed fury was not his Master. But that meant their relationship was a blank slate – or as close to one as it could be. This Master had suffered, had known what it meant to lose everything on purpose. For once in what felt like forever, they had common ground. This was his chance – their chance – to try again. The least he could try was honesty.

“I’m… not completely Time Lord anymore,” he finally muttered, eyes anywhere but on him. “That’s why the TARDIS won’t recognise me.”

Above him, the Master stayed quiet. Even his psychic presence was barely distinguishable from the TARDIS’ low rumbles. He suddenly wondered what his timeline looked like to the Master – if the golden swirls of a Time Lord had changed to a human’s pale yellows. If it was at all intertwined with his friend’s loose strands. He supposed he would never know now.

“There was… an incident. Biological metacrisis triggered by excess regeneration energy. It changed my metabolism.” He took a breath. “I’m part human now.”

He remembered being born, body still thrumming with Artron energy, staring into Donna’s eyes as he woke up to the dying wails of his own TARDIS. He remembered the beating of a singular heart in his ribcage, and the dizziness of an aborted regeneration. He remembered the incredulity in his voice, as he instantly recoiled at the mere thought of a human metacrisis that betrayed everything he had been taught.

The Master was silent for a long while. Then, “You what?”

The Doctor winced. The other Time Lord blinked down at him, his lips contorting in a sneer.

“Oh, that is just disgusting.” He started pacing around the room. “You, a human? Oh, Doctor, I know you’ve always embarrassed yourself, but that… You’ve never sunk quite that low.”

The Doctor let the words wash over him, a twinge of sorrow running through as the balance broke between them. He was past feeling embarrassed by his new condition – the initial horror he had felt was merely a product of his upbringing, the elitist Time Lord mentality he had been drilled into at the Academy. And the opportunity to spend his life with Rose – that was worth everything. He straightened.

“It was hardly a choice. And you’re one to talk about sinking to low levels.”

Ignoring the jab, the Master continued to stare, aborted bouts of laughter escaping his chest.

“So what now? Are you settling down on Earth? Waiting to die like a pathetic little worm?” He looked sharply away. “Should I even call you by your name anymore?”

“I’m still him, Master. I still have all our memories – you saw that yourself in my dream.” _Well, not all_. But if he was going to tell his secrets, he would need to do it one life-changing revelation at a time. Plenty of time to tell him about the tiny fact he came from an entirely different universe.

The Master shook his head. “You’re not the Doctor. You’re just a cheap copy.”

He turned his back on him. When he reached the threshold, he stopped and clenched his fists. “It seems I did kill him after all,” he muttered, and the Doctor’s heart twisted.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For leaving you.”

Not moving from his spot in the doorway, the Master scoffed. “Bit too late for that. Should’ve told me before I pressed the button.”

As he moved out, the Doctor called out sharply.

“Where are you going?”

Worry for his partner sparked anew inside him. The last thing he wanted was for another companion to get caught in the crossfire of the Master’s frustration.

“Anywhere I can’t see you or your stupid human’s pathetic faces.”

The Master left without one glance backwards, footsteps gradually fading into the TARDIS’ depths.

_Stars_. He needed to get to Rose.

* * *

_Since when does the Master have a library?_ Granted, he hadn’t visited his friend’s ship in centuries. But he had never really pictured him dedicating an entire room full of outdated paper and dust-collecting datapads. In fact, the last time he had seen the Master read was back at the Academy. On days when the Doctor could barely focus on the words in front of him, his friend would calmly prop the book on his lap, beckon him to sit next to him, and read aloud in a deep, soothing voice. The Doctor’s fidgeting would slow down to a minimum. His gaze would focus on Koschei’s moving lips, on his nimble fingers as he turned the pages with a grace he had never seen in anyone else.

Rose’s nimble form was pacing between the shelves, occasionally tracing the spines. As soon as the Doctor’s footsteps reached her, however, her gaze shot up towards him and her face lit up. He smiled back at her, and before he knew it Rose had enveloped him into a tight embrace.

“You’re alright,” she breathed.

“Course I’m alright,” he replied, caressing her arm with his fingers. “Nothing a TARDIS can’t fix up.”

She punched his forearm, and he drew it back with a hiss. “Oi! What was that for?”

“You scared me.”

He softened. “I’m sorry.”

“Doctor.” She gently cupped his head between her hands, and he leaned into them with a sigh. “Please, can you tell me what’s happening?”

He took a deep breath and looked around. This was one of the only rooms that wasn’t bathed in that harsh red light – the walls glowed softly, projecting a reassuring white light that gently prodded at the corners. There were two armchairs in a corner, in perfect condition, facing a fake firepit. He briefly wondered when (_if_) the Master ever had another visitor in his TARDIS. Much less one who would sit down in a library. The Doctor settled down in one of them, surprised by its comfortable springiness.

“The Master was my oldest friend.” _Is. And not this one. _“He was my best friend ever since the Academy – the trouble we got into.” He chuckled sadly, remembering the time Koschei had blown up half of the lab in an attempt to discover why the reaction wasn’t working. He half-suspected he had done it on purpose. Rose moved the other armchair so that their knees brushed against each other.

“He’s… he’s brilliant, Rose. Dazzling and burning and so, so clever. He was the only one who understood how I felt, trapped in the glass dome of the Academy, forced to look at the stars from afar.”

She was silent, her hand steady on his knee. Once again, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve her. Here she was, patiently listening to the mess that was his relationship with the Master, barely batting an eyelid. Perhaps she was still processing. He knew how sensitive she was about his life before her.

“We… we used to have this pact. Me and him. We would travel the stars together – run away with a TARDIS and visit every planet we could find.”

“What happened?”

He sighed again, a long, tired thing that resonated deep below his lungs. He stared into the flickering fake flames.

“I thought we were the same. But I don’t think he ever saw anything. Too busy burning it, I suppose.”

“But back in our world… He was on Gallifrey, right?”

The Doctor closed his eyes, fighting against the raging inferno that threatened to soak his vision. His memories of that day had always been fuzzy – yet he still recalled blurs of flames and ashes, screams and blood and then _silence, silence, silence_ when there were once thousands –

“I thought he was,” he said shakily. “I thought he was gone, but…he escaped. Hid himself at the end of the known universe. I found him – that was with Martha.”

He trailed off, lost in the memories. But then he caught sight of Rose’s confused and worried stare, and he sniffed loudly, shifting in his seat.

“Anyway, long story short, he tried to take over the world, I stopped him, he died.” He gave her a pained smile. “And here we are. Molto bene.”

_Regenerate! Just regenerate!_

“Why didn’t you tell me all this?” asked Rose.

_Lips twisted in a sneer, light slowly seeping out of wide brown eyes. “How about that. I win.”_

“I didn’t – I wasn’t…” His fists twisted the fabric of his trousers. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

Rose sighed. And then, in a tentative voice – “Doctor?”

He looked up, nodding to her with a small encouraging smile.

“Do you love him?”

_Oh Rassilon. _He looked at her helplessly. She blinked, and took a breath.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

She wrung her hands together, a nervous habit he had always found incredibly endearing. Now, he only wished he could smoothe the creases that formed on her forehead. She didn’t deserve any of this – she shouldn’t have to deal with the broken pieces of his relationship to the Master, or the Doctor’s jumbled mess of feelings. She deserved so much better.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I don’t know what to do, and I’m so sorry you were placed in this position.”

He got off his seat and knelt in front of her, placing her joint hands between his own.

“But if there is one thing I do know, Rose Tyler, is that I will never, ever give you up. Not in a thousand lightyears. I won’t let him hurt you.” He squeezed her hands, and her pulse beat softly underneath his fingers. “That I can promise.”

Her gaze was full – emotions swirling in the deep pools of her eyes, fighting against each other, until they settled into a quick nod and a small smile. She inched closer, and as her lips reached the Doctor’s he could taste her familiar flavour; cherries and cinnamon and a hint of caramel. He felt the same jolt of incredulous euphoria he had felt the first time she had kissed him on the beach – the thrill of care he didn’t have to bury so deep inside him anymore. His lips parted, welcoming her eagerly. He brought his hands up, cupping her cheeks while letting her tongue play between his teeth. She exhaled softly through her nose, and he felt her warm breath on his cheeks.

When she pulled back, the Doctor had to blink several times to remember where he was.

“I trust you,” she said.

_Stars above_, he loved her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she giggled. The sound rippled through the TARDIS walls – he wondered if anyone had ever laughed inside the ship.

There was a thud, and the lights flickered. The engines dulled, leaving only the life support mechanisms in the background. An eerie silence settled into the ship. Rose looked around in surprise, and their gazes met. Her earlier hesitation was gone, and the Doctor knew by the determined gleam of her eyes that she had compartmentalised already, focusing on the matter at hand.

“Well,” said the Doctor, standing up. “It looks like we’ve landed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! And please don't hesitate to comment! I love you guys <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I just wanted to say a few things before the chapter!  
I am so, so sorry for the long wait. Thank you all very much for your patience. I PROMISE I won't abandon this fic, no matter how long it's been since I last posted. I know what the ending will be, it's just a question of figuring out the rest. I will not let this stay unfinished forever.
> 
> Also, this story was originally planned before s12 aired, which means the whole timeless child plotline isn't canon here. Or at least it's not discussed. More importantly, it means I made the Master destroy Gallifrey before it was cool.
> 
> Anyway what happens when you put 3 hugely over-dramatic people alone on the same planet for an hour? This freaking chapter, I guess. Enjoy!

The Master was gone. The rotor had stilled, filling the control room with a pregnant silence. The doors were open, and rays of light filtered through the dust that slowly seeped into the ship.

The Doctor raced to the location panel, gripping the handles with unusual force. His nose scrunched up in confusion.

“What_ is_ he up to?” he muttered.

Rose walked towards the open doors and peered outside. Swiftly scanning the surroundings, she found they had landed among ruins of some kind. All around her lay rubble and half-walls – no building had been left intact. Clouds of dark yellow dust swirled past her legs as she cautiously stepped on cracked, dry ground. Something swiftly slithered between the gaps – a kind of alien lizard, she guessed. A scorching wind rushed over the desolate landscape. Here and there, desiccated trees protruded from the earth, their black, contorted branches eerily thrown up towards the cloudless sky, and mingling with the destroyed buildings. The sky was a bright, unyielding shade of orange. From far away, Rose could hear the sound of crashing waves. There was no sign of the Master.

Despite the sweltering heat, Rose shivered.

From the control room came the Doctor’s incredulous laugh.

“A _coastal resort_?” he snorted. “He brought us to a _spa_?”

Rose blinked. “Um, Doctor?”

“The town of New Nafplio, on planet M-14,” continued the Doctor. “Considered one of the best relaxation resorts in the entire Mithras galaxy –”

“Doctor.”

“–luscious jungles, bright pink waterfalls, rich fauna and _gorgeous_ beaches – but why the devil would he –”

“Doctor!”

“_What_?”

She continued to stare at the landscape. “You might wanna take a look at your spa resort.”

Finally, the Doctor shuffled over next to her, and whatever protest might have started to form quickly died out when he saw the devastation.

“Oh,” he said. Rose hummed in agreement, her lips thinning. He stood there for a while, mouth silently working as he searched for the right words to express his confusion. Behind them, the TARDIS morphed into a scorched, black tree trunk.

“But – but that’s not – M-14 is supposed to be thriving!” His eyes travelled over the burnt town. “It’s supposed to be at the peak of its development – I don’t…”

He looked down. His eyes were glassy, and his hands shook slightly.

“Something must’ve happened,” Rose said.

The Doctor nodded, swallowing. “We need to find out what.”

“What about the Master?” asked Rose.

The Doctor frowned, turning back towards the scorched buildings before them. His eyes narrowed. “We’ll find him too,” he said. “He has a habit of attracting chaos. And me, unfortunately.”

Rose looked around. “The Time Agency. Do you think they’ve followed us?”

The Doctor nodded grimly. “Most definitely.”

He stepped out, inspecting the streets. “So,” he twisted back, hands in his pockets and tone jovial. His shaken state once again buried underneath his mask. “Which way do we start?”

* * *

If there was one thing Kandra hated more than calls with the Commander, it was these goddamn agency meetings. If she had known being Lieutenant entailed countless hours wasted away in a room full of recycled air and arguing against old men over ‘tactical disagreements’, she would have turned the promotion down in a heartbeat. Let Pris have the title – they were a far better sweet-talker than Kandra ever would be. _She_ had only joined the Agency because of her fascination with time-travel.

Her fingers drummed against her leg as Lot reviewed the situation for the hundredth time and waved his hands in the air like flags. The briefing notes floated above the holographic table, blurring together in Kandra’s restless brain. _Rogue Time Traveller, highly dangerous, previous encounters resulted in heavy losses and injury. Two new, unknown elements. Human. Time Lord. Suggested strategy: currently reduced to recon and containment._

“This doesn’t change anything,” Lot finished, frustration laced in his words. “We have a biological pattern, we have the ship’s energy signal – hell, we practically have the fugitive’s psychological profile with how closely we’ve studied him!”

“I agree,” said Kandra. “We’re not going to catch him by sitting in the ship all day.”

General Yorga rose an eyebrow. “What do you _suggest_ we do? You could barely land a hit last time _you_ tried containing him.”

Kandra felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She breathed out. No use lashing out like a baby – she was better than this.

_Gods,_ she wished Pris was here.

With a swish of her hand, she brought up the map of quadrant twenty-five. The twinkling spots of light lazily orbited around a small crimson sun, each annotated with coordinates.

“We intercepted the Master’s TARDIS pattern on M-14, in the year 3045, Universal Calendar.” She didn’t miss the others’ frowns when she employed the fugitive’s moniker. The pedantic name was clearly a sore spot in the Agency. She couldn’t blame them, really – what sort of police were they if they called a planet-killer_ The Master_?

At her command, the hologram zoomed in towards the planet. She ignored the pang of sympathy that sparked in her heart at the sight of the empty, red desert.

“His intent is unclear, but we’ve also detected his two new...companions on the planet.”

A blurry picture blinked into view. A young, blonde woman was supporting a tall, lanky man (_Time_ _Lord_, she corrected her baffled mind), who clutched his right shoulder with a pained grimace. On the bottom left corner, the Master’s figure could be seen, caught mid-turn as his face contorted in fury.

“While this adds a new variable –” she acknowledged, nodding towards General Yorga, “- it can also be exploited. After the other Time Lord fell, the Master immediately became focused on the defense. He didn’t stay to destroy the ship, he didn’t engage. He just...left.”

By the wavering in Yorga’s eyes, she could tell she was winning her over. Her eyes were calculating, staring at the second Time Lord like he contained the secrets of the universe. Which, for all they knew, he very well could be.

Kandra narrowed her eyes. The picture vanished, and she could see Lot's smirk from across the table.

Get intel on the new Time Lord, and finally, finally, beat the Master at his own twisted game of cat and mouse.

Kill two Knorls with one stone.

“It seems that, contrary to what we thought, the Master _does_ care. He cares very much.”

And finally, that would prove his downfall.

* * *

Turned out, the Master hadn’t strayed far. He just sat there, towering over the destruction as if he was its king. Staring at the horizon with an expression that reflected the swirling clouds that brewed overhead. A storm was coming – and of the Master or the sky, Rose wasn’t sure which would break first.

Their exploration of the ruins of New Nafplio had proved unfruitful. Everywhere they went, they had been greeted by the same unyielding, arbitrary annihilation. Scorched wooden beams. Piles of stones and bricks, whose provenance was unclear. There were no bodies, though. Never any bodies.

In the few houses they had ventured into, they had found scattered remains of domesticity – a broken picture frame, bent cooking utensils, half of a toppled coffee table. Rose had bent down and picked up a toy spaceship with a shaking hand. The Doctor had stared grimly, a haunted glint occasionally flashing through his eyes. She wondered how similar M-14 looked to the ashes that were once Gallifrey.

They would have walked past the Master completely, had it not been for the rumble of thunder that had echoed among the ruins. Rose had instinctively looked up, frowning towards the sky, and noticed the crimson-clad figure sitting on the roof of a miraculously-spared house. His left leg was folded against his chest while the other dangled off the edge.

She silently nudged the Doctor and nodded upwards. He moved towards a staircase that bordered the stone wall, providing direct access to the roof.

“Stay here,” he murmured, and she scoffed.

“Never happening, Doctor.”

He looked at her for a long time. Then he smiled, soft and quick, and nodded.

The Master didn’t stir, showing no sign he had heard them. But he still huffed when they approached.

“Can’t get rid of you long, can I?” he said without turning his gaze from the storm clouds.

The Doctor cautiously stepped closer. “You never could.”

The Master stayed silent for a while. The rain started ever so slowly, smattering the parched ground with insufficient spots of freshness. The grey light seemed to envelop him in its shroud.

Rose had seen the Master furious, burning and blinding. She had seen him cold and bitter, snapping at her in the control room. And now she saw him melancholy, far away like the sea that Rose could sometimes hear carried by the wind. She had no idea _what_ to make of him. Which facets made up the real Master – the one that hid behind his airs. If he even existed at all.

The Doctor had told her more about him, in an attempt to fill the gaping silence of the ghost town. He had told her about the quick-witted Koschei, about the games and the betrayals, about the insults neither meant but neither regretted. He had told her about the killings. About the slaughter and the madness and the obsessions and the despair. And he had told her about the damned hope that would never, ever leave him alone. And Rose had listened, because that was what the Doctor needed. An ear, when the roaring of his mind was too loud, too fast, too cruel.

Never before had she seen the Doctor so subdued around anyone. Every one of his words were pondered, cautious, as if one false move would shatter the world. She trusted the Doctor with her life, with her love, but this – this predated even her species. And despite the Doctor's promises, the insecurities she had fought so hard to overcome reared their heads once more. She felt like a speck of dust witnessing a battle between two galaxies.

Or, maybe a staring contest, given how the Doctor seemed to drink the Master up with the intensity of his gaze.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” said the Master. His voice was dark and calm. Despite his hostile words, Rose had a feeling that following him was exactly what he had wanted them to do.

The Doctor stayed standing. The wind dislodged a strand of hair and sent it whipping near his ear. He sighed.

“Followed you back from the end of the universe,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna stop now.”

The Master stopped, frowning, and finally turned to look at the Doctor.

“What?”

The Doctor looked away. “Nothing.”

Something sparked back in the Master’s eyes that made Rose inch closer to the Doctor. She had seen that glow before, and it had ended with the Doctor getting shot in the shoulder.

“Aren't you hiding something else, _Doctor_?” said the Master with a snarl.

“I thought I wasn’t him anymore.” The Doctor’s retort was quick and snappish.

“You’re not.”

“What can I do to prove it to you?” said the Doctor, spreading his arms out. He seemed to wince, though – apparently his injury wasn't quite as healed as he had told her (and Rose wished she was surprised). “I’ve got my feelings, and I’ve got my memories. You of all people should know bodies don’t make a Time Lord.”

“Except you don’t have _his_ memories,” the Master replied coldly, eyeing him. “Do you?”

“I…” The Doctor faltered, helplessly looking back towards Rose.

“You knew?” she asked.

How did he figure that one out?

The Master huffed and watched the ruins below.

“The Void particles. Your surprise to see me alive. Your mysterious survival, when I know I _felt_ you die. I _knew_ there was something about you. You and your pet. Something _foreign_,” he added with a snarl. “You really thought I wouldn’t notice? Thought you’d have a go at _changing_ me when you couldn’t change my other self?” He scoffed. “Well, it’s not happening. Whatever universe you came from, you can go back for all I care.”

As the Doctor searched for an answer, a flash of lightning illuminated the other man’s face. The shadows grew. And as thunder rippled through the streets, threatening but volatile, the revelation seared into her mind. Rose just _knew_.

“You did this,” she said. “You burned this town.”

The Doctor looked sharply towards her. “What?”

At last, the Master trained his gaze towards her. She weathered it without flinching. And then he grinned, showing all too many teeth.

“Oh, I _like_ you,” he said.

“Yeah, well, not mutual,” Rose replied, crossing her arms. “Why did you do it, then? Why this planet?”

“Again with your _why’s, _human. Doesn’t it get boring?”

She raised her eyebrow. “My _name_ is Rose.”

“…You really did do it,” came the Doctor’s resigned sigh.

The Master’s smile vanished, and his eyes swept through the landscape, where a flock of birds crowed their guttural songs. “I did. Flipped a few switches, brought down the artificial weather disruptor. Whole town crumbled to dust in a week.” His breathing was deep and regular. “Got rid of the bodies, too.”

There was no bragging in his voice. No pleasure, no smile, no victorious glee. But no guilt, either. Just a statement, a fact. As if destroying a city was the most logical action in the world. She supposed reason was as believable a mask as any.

Maybe that was why he wore red - why his TARDIS was constantly bathed in that deep crimson light. The blood he spilled was too thick, too much, to stay confined to his hands.

“...I don’t understand,” said the Doctor weakly. “What did they ever do to you?”

There was a beat. A moment of desperation as the Doctor desperately waited for an answer that would fix everything. The Master’s eyes darkened, and another peal of thunder rumbled overhead.

“They were too happy.”

The Doctor’s shoulders sagged, despair trickling into his eyes. Without a word, Rose wound her fingers around his. The Master stared at their interwoven hands, eyes narrow and glinting with disdain. The wind blew, whistling between the ruins.

Rose had never liked being alone. Although her friend group at school hadn’t been huge, it had been tight-knit, and she always made sure she had little time left for loneliness. Silence had never been her forte, either – she thrived on white noise, on distractions, on connections. She knew the Doctor was the same. And she wondered if, deep down under his pretences, so did the Master.

“I thought,” came the Doctor’s murmur, “this time, without the drums, without the insanity… it would be – it could be different.”

The Master raised an eyebrow. “You mean I could be this universe’s version of you.”

“_Yes!” _The Doctor suddenly cried, sharply turning towards him and throwing his left arm out. Rose tried not to feel too grieved when he let go of her hand. “Yes, I did! I thought – I hoped – that _finally_, you would understand. That after hearing that horrible silence, you’d finally get it. But you didn’t. All of it – it just made you hungrier.”

There were tears in his eyes when he turned away. Rose’s fingers itched to do something, to solve this, to make him smile again – that soft, genuine smile that had started to appear between the cracks in his mask, ever since he had settled in this world. She resented the Master for taking that away, for sending him hurling back towards this cold rage and unbridled anguish that made her shiver.

A small clatter came from the streets below, like a group of pebbles. Rose whipped her head towards it, but there was nothing here. She breathed out – probably just her frayed nerves.

The Master scoffed. “Good to know all Doctors are this stupid.”

It didn’t slip past Rose’s notice that the Master had acknowledged him as _Doctor_. Perhaps he, too, in his calculating, cruel way, was searching for understanding.

The fight seemed to leave the Doctor as his shoulders sagged, and he let out a long, tired sigh.

“Did it help?” He asked. “Destroying this planet, adding more silence, did it help with the pain? Has it calmed the rage?”

The rain picked up its intensity, and the peal of thunder that resonated almost covered the Master’s matching sigh.

“Nothing ever really does.”

Rose blinked. The Master had changed masks again – these subtle, quiet moments of honesty were unpredictable, as volatile as dust carried by the storm.

“I could help,” came the Doctor’s murmur.

The Master looked at him, and let out a humorless chuckle. “You claim you’ll never stop following me,” said the Master. “But when it mattered most, you left. And this,” he gestured around, “is the result. The logical conclusion to our dance.”

The Doctor brought his hands up, but they just hovered, yearning for contact yet unable to bridge the gap. “Not me. Master, I’ve been trying to tell you – we’re the _same_.”

There was a pause. “You deal with hope, I deal with death,” said the Master. A statement, a fact. “Don’t fool yourself, Doctor. There's nothing left here for you.”

Perhaps this was why he had brought them here, on the remnants of his deeds. Perhaps he had seen the same hopeful light she had seen in the Doctor’s eyes, and wanted nothing more than to crush it again. Or perhaps he wanted to test its strength.

The Doctor shook his head. “You’re not _listening_.” He took a shaking breath, and his gaze lingered on a crumbled chimney nearby. “In my world, Gallifrey – it’s gone. It’s destroyed. The silence, the pain, the burning – I felt it, I know it!”

His shoulders sagged. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, but filled with the same passion and guilt Rose knew so well.

“I made it happen.”

The Master stared. Rose walked over to the edge of the roof, keeping watch in an attempt to chase away the helplessness that clawed under her skin. She wanted to intervene, but she had always been better with actions than with words. And at the moment, anything she _could _say would feel superficial and unwelcome. Rose felt like she had on the Sycorax ship, desperately grasping for words she could never possibly reach.

It was getting dark, but she couldn’t tell if it was evening or if the clouds were just thickening. Shadows engulfed the ruins.

And then another bolt of lightning split the sky, and she saw it. A swift shadow darting between two walls. A flash of silver that looked very much like a weapon. A cold thrill of fear ran down her spine.

“Doctor.”

The Doctor turned towards her for a second, brows furrowed.

But then the Master laughed. The sound was grating, manic – the same vicious laugh he had made in the London alleyway. It started low, a deep thrumming down his chest, and became more and more intense with each sharp breath.

Another shadow in the corner of her eye. There was no denying it now. They were running out of time before the Time Agents found them.

“_You?” _the Master spat. “You’re the one who – oh, but that’s just _perfect_.” His grin was like a wolf, full of sharp edges. He stepped closer to the Doctor, until their faces were only a few inches apart. The Doctor stood firm, but Rose could see his fingers twitch.

“Absolutely perfect,” the Master repeated. “Do you know why?”

The wind screamed. She wished she could do the same. But she was frozen to the spot, frustration welling up inside her. They didn’t have _time_ for this.

“Because in the end,” continued the Master with a sneer, “after all the fights, after your sermons and stubbornness and _kindness_, all the betrayals and all your _vanity_, all you did was turn into me.”

His features were contorted with glee. And yet, behind it, there was a tiny flash of something in his eyes. The same something that had caught her attention before, when he had admitted to killing the Doctor. The something she was good at finding inside living beings. A spark of hurt, of brokenness, of suffering, that coursed underneath like a subterranean river. Behind the mask of hatred, there was a tiny sliver of doubt. Of hope, perhaps.

“What does that say about your precious morals, Doctor?”

“Alright, cut it _out_!”

With more force than she had anticipated, she wrenched herself between the two Time Lords. The Master’s white-hot gaze focused on her. She pointed at the TARDIS’ general direction.

“The Agency’s coming any second now, and if you two don’t want to end up shot at again we’d better start moving _now_!”

She whirled back towards the Doctor. His dismayed expression shifted, and he gripped her hand in return. His eyes darted around, widening as he saw the same shadows she had. She was pretty sure there were at least three – which was enough to surround them, but maybe not to completely block all the pathways in this labyrinth of a town.

“She’s right,” the Doctor said.

His earlier desire to negotiate his way out of this with the Agency seemed to have dissipated. Rose assumed discovering your ex-best friend was an intergalactic criminal somewhat dulled your desire to talk things out with ruthless state-sanctioned mercenaries. Not to mention being shot in the shoulder.

Which left Option B.

“We need to run.”

She had always preferred Option B.

The Master’s fists were still clenched, and he was glaring at Rose like she had dared to interrupt his precious screaming match with the Doctor. His jaw rolled once, twice.

“Fine,” he spat. The Doctor stared at him for a second, as though he hadn’t expected the Master to choose the easy solution.

But Rose tightened her grip. And as they started running towards the exterior stairs, her heart hammering in her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins, there was only one thought left inside her frantic mind.

Oh, how she had _missed_ this.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a veeery long boi (for my usual standards lol), so buckle up! Hope you've enjoyed, and if you did, please don't hesitate to leave a comment! They really fill me with joy <3 Hope you'll like what's to come! And come chat me up on tumblr @bluecookiesforrick ;)


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